


offline

by zhengkun



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Androids, Angst, M/M, Missing Persons, Pining, adding to the zhengkun tag and the zzt/bwj tag, bc it comes w/ the pining!, look at these tags i never knew existed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhengkun/pseuds/zhengkun
Summary: some people cope with loss through writing or talking or time. other people cope with loss by building giant robots.





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**Author's Note:**

> i wrote the plot for school but then i felt like it would fit zhengkun very well so i made it zhengkun and nowicanjustfeelmyselfprocrastinatingwhenineedtostudyforexams

Never let your creation be better than yourself. If there's any rule he's ever followed, any law he's ever abided, it should be this one. Yet Zhengting hasn't, because he's a fool, a lovesick fool, but a fool nonetheless.  
Attempt 91, Zhengting writes in his notebook. A new page, a new day, a new attempt. It's silent except for the sound of his pencil scratching on the paper. This lab, Zhengting's lab, was supposedly shut down by the government five years ago, when a once brilliant scientist focused on his own goals, rather than the goals of those he worked for and those he worked with.  
"Don't you think it's time to give up?" A voice cuts through the fog around Zhengting's mind. Only one other person is allowed inside Zhengting's lab anymore, and it's Wenjun.  
Zhengting throws his pencil down. The tip breaks off and skitters across the floor. "Give up? When I'm so close?"  
"Close to what? He's a guy. Just get over him already. Men suck." Wenjun walks across the lab, steps in the same position as in his footprints carved into the dusty floor.  
"We're guys. You're gay," Zhengting points out.  
"Yeah I'm gay, yeah I hate men, yes we exist," Wenjun responds dryly. He stands over Zhengting, reading the little book.  
"Only 91? I thought you'd be past that already." He takes a sip of his coffee. Zhengting pointedly stares at the cup.  
"This?" Wenjun swirls the cup around, spilling some of the liquid onto his hand. He hisses in pain, stuffing his fingers into mouth to ease the pain. "Go out and get some sunlight and maybe you can get your own coffee."  
Wenjun notices Zhengting's gaze, which lasts perhaps a little too long. "Fingers in the mouth? Didn't know that was your kink. And here I am, thinking that I knew them all already."  
"Shut up."  
Wenjun nods. "Mm-hm. Because I'm just your fuckbuddy while Xukun is gone."  
Zhengting stands up violently, knocking his chair back, and grabs Wenjun by the tie of his government suit. "Shut the fuck up."  
He retrieves his chair and sits back down, breathing heavily. He knows it's true, an undeniable fact. They've helped each other get off too many times to just be acquaintances. Wenjun doesn't seem to mind being on his knees while Zhengting wraps his hand in his hair and throws his head back in his release with the name 'Xukun' on his lips. Those lips that Wenjun covers with warm kisses, even if they're dry and chapped, because Zhengting seems to know how to moisturize his face but not his lips.  
Zhengting sits back down. "I have work to do." He traces his finger in a heart shape around a picture of Xukun. Printed pictures are rare now, because ink is an expensive commodity. But this picture isn't new, because Xukun hasn't been seen in five years. Besides, Zhengting always has to work off the grid, with no digital connection to the Internet or the outside world. It's partly because he's a bit paranoid, and partly because he is working in a supposedly offline government facility. As Zhengting looks for another pencil, digging through the debris of paper and other assorted trash on his desk, Wenjun pushes himself up to sit on said desk. His jacket sits loose on his frame, tie crumpled from where Zhengting grabbed it. The first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, revealing the slightest bit of distracting skin, and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. The once carefully controlled thermostat turned off five years ago and never turned on again.  
It's always like this: Zhengting works on whatever he happens to be working on for the day, while Wenjun sits next to him and dictates the most recent news.  
"If you weren't such a hermit and obsessed with Xukun, you'd really enjoy our current project." It's another attempt of Wenjun's to convince Zhengting to give up on his project. Like Zhengting, Wenjun works with artificial intelligence. Unlike Zhengting, Wenjun is much better at software than hardware. Zhengting is a mastermind, who seems to be able to do anything, except forget about Xukun.  
"I'll never work with them." Zhengting almost spits out the last word, like he can't bear to say it.  
"You used to be one of them." Wenjun's voice is neutral. Zhengting has never seen him mad or upset throughout the eight years they've known each other. He places a hand over his chest. "I'm one of them. And besides, you like my suit."  
"Stop talking about my kinks. You're different Wenjun," Zhengting says without looking up.  
Wenjun peers down at Zhengting's notebook. He can't read much, because Zhengting's handwriting is a mess of chicken scratch and shorthand.  
"Independent thought?" He stares at the upside down text.  
Zhengting gives a quick nod. "Trying to create new memories weakly linked to old ones without input from humans. Like remembering locations and movement."  
"It's a robot." Wenjun stands up from his position on the desk, looking over Zhengting's shoulder. "It has sensors and servos and motors for that."  
Zhengting shakes his head. "Too accurate. I want to simulate human fallibility."  
"Record the numbers but change the output to be inaccurate," Wenjun suggests.  
Zhengting considers it for a moment. "Wenjun you fucking genius. I could suck your dick for that."  
For the genius Zhengting might be, he forgot an awful lot about simple solutions.  
He knocks his chair over again in his rush to stand up and head for his computer.  
Although sophisticated computers could be shrunk down into devices a few centimeters in size, Zhengting's was a monstrosity. Contained within a Faraday cage for Zhengting's paranoia, the entire contraption looks like a glorified microwave.  
He gestures for Wenjun to follow him inside the cage, shutting the door behind him. The two of them are forced to hunch over the screen, pressed up side by side.  
"I don't know how you can code in here," Wenjun complains.  
"It's because you're used to the large space of your government job," Zhengting replies, turning on the computer. Everything he needs is contained within the cage, from the computer itself to its display to the its source of power, which taps directly and discreetly into the electrical grid.  
Wenjun can't argue with that. He opts for silence instead, watching Zhengting code and occasionally pointing out any typos.  
Zhengting has never felt so alive. Even when Wenjun falls asleep on his shoulder at sometime around midnight, Zhengting continues. He's never been one to sit still and code for hours (that's Wenjun's job) but Zhengting has never had such a great purpose before.  
Another hour later, Zhengting types the last semicolon. He saves the program to a chip, and holds it in his palm, marveling at the small size and amount of information it can hold.  
Clutching the chip like a child holding a precious toy, Zhengting falls asleep, basking in the light of his computer.

Wenjun wakes Zhengting a few hours later.  
"I finished," is the first thing Zhengting says once capable of coherent thought. Wenjun looks at the chip with an expression of concern.  
"Don't do anything stupid," Wenjun warns as they climb out of the cage.  
"I won't," Zhengting promises, kissing Wenjun softly before he leaves.  
As soon as Wenjun leaves, Zhengting does the stupid thing. In a shadowy corner of the lab stands a humanoid shape covered in a sheet. Zhengting pulls the sheet off and rolls the body out into the light. It's dressed just like his missing boyfriend, and if Zhengting tries hard enough, he can smell Xukun's cologne. With a shaking hand, he inserts the chip in its place in the nape of the android's neck. Zhengting brushes the wig to cover up the chip's spot.  
"Hello Xukun," he says softly, willing his program to work. The android shudders softly, as if waking up.  
Then it tilts its head, facial features forming the same soft smile as Xukun. "Hello Zhengting. Have you eaten?"


End file.
